Court the Viper
by Baradour
Summary: It's taken Lillith six long years, but she will finally have what she wants most.


Mm, first attempt at a 'Potter fic. Basically, my boyfriend wanted to see a Slytherin who wasn't all bad and of, at least, average intelligence. (His words, not mine!) I'll make notes about charms, potions, characters, etc. that are original to the story at the beginning of each chapter wherein they first appear. Lillith and all members of the Veritavia family and Alicia Hamilton are mine, as is the composition of the "itching powder." 

All other characters, charms, etc. are of J.K. Rowling's devising.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Lillith Veritavia sat towards the end of the Slytherin table, arms crossed, trying but failing to be as far from her housemates as the bench would allow. Professor Dumbledore settled back in his seat as Professor McGonagall brought forward the Sorting Hat. Under her disinterested façade, Lillith was avidly inspecting the group of First Years nervously listening to the hat's song. Even after six frustrating years, Lillith still held some hope that the Sorting Hat would place more people like herself in Slytherin. It did not matter to her that they would be First Years - only that she would not be alone in her house.

Lillith impatiently twirled her hair around one finger before hearing her mother's voice in her head, warning her not to ruin "such splendid hair." Lillith hardly found it splendid. If it were to be judged on color or shine or length, then it might place as "Best Imitation of a Scintillous Deluge of Bee Regurgitation" (or Glistening River of Honey to the average Slytherin). But, for all its lustre, it was exceptionally fine, tending to tangle and knot unless brushed frequently. Agitated, Lillith dropped the strand and clapped perfunctorily for a towheaded boy striding towards the Slytherin table, her table, sneering as he passed a skittish pair of girls Lillith would wager to be Hufflepuffs. The ceremony and feast that followed was the most disappointing event of the year, for her.

Lillith was not the typical Slytherin. She did not enjoy making sport of "mudbloods" and muggles, nor did she listen to any of the rumors her housemates enjoyed concocting, mostly about Harry Potter. What she did enjoy, no one quite knew, though it was clear she loved her Care of Magical Creatures class. Though straight-faced and hard-eyed most of the time, Lillith would give brief, genuine smiles during those hours. But, afterward, she would return to her potent silence, thinking about who knew what.

While her family was quite pleased by her Sorting, Lillith found it most unfair. Her parents, Callista and Adoamros Veritavia, had paid large sums of money to a gnarled wizard with a lisp to fill their children with as much information as possible regarding every subject they would study at Hogwarts. Gwydion, her older brother, had never cared much for his studies. Being in Slytherin suited him well in that respect. Lillith, however, was her brother's foil. She had pestered and pressed Fergus until she had learned the hard way what _Silencio_ could do to a person. She may not have been able to speak most of the time, but that hardly impaired her voracious mind. Mute or not, Lillith, to his complete frustration, far surpassed her tutor's expectations. Rather than encourage her, the old badger had punished her, fearful of losing his opulent lodgings when she finally drained him. By her parents' reckoning, that day had come when Lillith started at Hogwarts. Frumpy, crotchety Fergus was replaced by frumpy, overbearing Mathilde Nez, who had sniffed disdainfully at everything and everyone, except Draco Malfoy, when she escorted Lillith to platform nine and three-quarters.

The ceremony was mercifully coming to an end. The last two girls were placed in Hufflepuff, pleasing a small, self-important part of Lillith. Professor Dumbledore launched in a tedious drone, signaling Lillith's brain to paste a rapt expression on her face. Artfully hidden behind this studious, intent veneer, her mind wandered to focus on more important matters: the proper distillation of aconite tincture to produce a poison more efficacious than monkshood when applied to weapons, Irish Gaelic charms, how to make a farthingale from dried vines. Quite contrary to her body, Lillith's mind rarely lingered on one topic - that would be boring. A flicker at the edge of her vision interrupted her progression through declining _exaro_.

Lillith's eyes scanned the faculty table, coming to rest on the sullen features of Professor Snape. Well, she thought, I see I'm not the only one who believes Professor Dumbledore's mouth might be better served with a meat pie. She shifted and caught part of a conversation between Pansy Parkinson and a new Slytherin girl, by the sound of the voices. Her silver eyes dropped, and her lips turned into a frown when she heard her name.

"Veritavia. Her family is worth knowing, but she certainly isn't . . . thinks she's better than that rest of us . . . put powdered milk weed in my bed to make me itch."

"Professor Snape told you that there was no way of knowing who placed that substance in your bed," Lillith interjected in a weary, though challenging tone. "And, if you could be bothered to utilize the gray matter between your ears, you would remember that Professor Snape said that it was powdered campanula and thistle hairs." She remembered that particular meeting with Professor Snape quite clearly. It had occurred just before the summer holiday.

Pansy glared down the table at Lillith's profile, unwilling to begin anything during the feast. There would be time for that.

Fortunately, the food appeared and Lillith focused on eating swiftly, but daintily, to flee to the solace of her bed. Just as in previous years, only one girl was supposed to share her room, but Lillith knew that would not last overly long. Once safe in the only place she truly relaxed, she quickly changed into a voluminous Irish shift her grandmother had commissioned, complete with black work on the placard to for the Veritavia crest. Then, she meticulously brushed out her hair before braiding it into a coronet to keep it from tangling and breaking while she slept. This was followed by careful washing and anointing of her skin with lotions and salves to promote clarity and delay aging. Only after she was washed, slicked, and scented did Lillith settle into bed and reach beneath it for her hidden cache of scrolls, quills, and inks. Glancing over the pile before her, she drew the curtains closed, leaving only a small chink for light to enter.

"Ah," she sighed, "finally a bit of sanity." She unrolled a particularly thick scroll with "Ballad of Esuviel" printed neatly by the wax imprint of her family seal. She carefully scrolled down to the stanza she had written that afternoon.

By dosing streams the dark refrain unfurled  
"Esuviel! Esuviel! For royalty or blood!"  
Then goatskin drum met pounding fist  
And, as one, like creeping mist They smothered the valley side

"It sounded so much better this morning," she fretted, inking her quill and attending to hasty alterations. She maintained a fluid combination of disgusted or excited murmurs punctuated with the scratching of her quill. She was putting the final dot on the last "i" when the new girl Pansy had tried to sway at dinner arrived. Lillith hastily stashed everything beneath the bed once more.

The girl tapped hesitantly on Lillith's bedpost. "I'm sorry if I woke you," she said in a small voice.

Lillith's lips pulled back and settled somewhere between grimace and grin. "Not at all," she replied in a falsely sweet voice. The curtains parted and she saw a look of undilitued horror cross a delicate, heart-shaped face. "I am not surprised that no one told you that I would be sharing a room with you. I do not tend to keep company long." Lillith folded her hands on her lap. "Well, now that I have given you the token warning, introductions must be made. I am Lillith Veritavia, though most people here tend to use more . . . creative nicknames." Waiting for a reply, she raised her eyebrows in an expression commonly used by Kindergarten teachers to their students.

The girl finally caught on. "I - I'm Alicia Hamilton," she said, but seemed unsure this was the desired answer.

Lillith nodded and looked the girl over. Her hair was a nondescript brown, tucked carelessly behind ears that could easily serve as saucers. Her eyes were much like her hair, but were large enough to warrant at least a cursory inspection. All told, the child was quite plain and would probably never pass as an Incomparable. Lillith sighed and pushed away a tendril of sadness that begged her attention. "Well, Alicia, I would recommend that you see to your things, and then try to get some sleep."

Alicia nodded, letting the curtains close. Lillith settled down into her bed and was asleep before her roommate said goodnight.


End file.
